


Paint

by let_love_run_red



Category: Logan Lucky (2017)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-02
Updated: 2019-07-10
Packaged: 2020-06-02 21:40:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19450033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/let_love_run_red/pseuds/let_love_run_red





	1. 1

Clyde watched in awe as the patterns and swirls on his arm grew more and more complex. He could tell the marks were made with acrylic paint and a fine haired brush. Today she’d decided she wanted to paint her own version of Starry Night on her arm. Clyde brushed his thumb over the blue and yellow swirls, feeling the plastic of his prosthetic forearm rather than the feel of acrylic on skin. Something he’d gotten used to. He quickly pulled out a dry erase marker and wrote on his prosthetic just below his elbow.

 **You’re an amazing painter** _._ He waited for her response, seeing it appear in the same acrylic that the painting was in.

 _Thank you, you know you’re pretty good at drawing._ She said, Clyde smiled as a patron walked into the bar. Clyde drew a simple heart below her words before setting the marker down as she painted over his heart in yellow, continuing the painting.

“What can I get for you?” Clyde asked the woman. She tore her eyes off his prosthetic and ordered a simple whiskey. Clyde set out pouring it for her as she continued watching his prosthetic arm.

“Your soulmate’s pretty talented.” She pointed out. Clyde looked down at his arm and smiled, watching the painting progress as he slid the glass of whiskey to the woman.

“Yeah, she sure is.” Clyde said. Clyde went about cleaning one of the glasses as she finished the painting, signing the piece and painting words on her bicep.

 _So, I should have asked this MUCH earlier but whats your name?_ She asked. Clyde picked up his marker and continued the conversation.

 **Clyde. Yknow I can’t say anything about you asking seeing as I haven’t worked up the courage to ask yet.** He responded. He studied the marks of the painting on his forearm.

 _Clyde, I like that name. I’m (y/n). Its a pleasure to meet you Clyd_ e. She joked. Clyde smiled and continued talking to her, glad to finally know her name.

* * *

“(y/n) why do you waste paint on your arm? We have perfectly good canvases in this classroom and you choose to use your arm as your canvas.” Mrs. Monroe complained, grabbing your arm and peering at what you’d painted. You looked up at her with a slight scowl. You loved your class but the teacher never seemed to understand.

“For my soulmate. He likes watching me paint.” You said. Mrs. Monroe narrowed her eyes. She’d never had the marks appear in her skin, some people didn’t have soulmates, Mrs. Monroe being one of them.

“Well paint on your own time. He must be in class anyway.” She hissed under her breath. You scowled at her back as she walled out before you turned to your best friend.

“She has a point (y/n), he’s gotta be in class I mean its the middle of the day.” She said. You had been holding back the detail that Clyde was 28, ten years older than you. You didn’t see a problem with it, most people had a soulmate age difference. Your father was 11 years older than your mother, our sisters soulmate was 5 years younger than she was. You doubted anybody would understand however, your family was conservative.

“It dont matter,” you said quietly. “so I hear Justin had something for us.” You said to her. She smiled and pulled two cardsbout of her backpack, handing one to you. You looked down at the card with a mischevious grin. The card was identical to your drivers license with one difference. It said you were 22. (Y/f/n)’s said she was 23. You both slid the cards into your wallets before the bell rang and the two of you ran to the parking lot, deciding to skip your last two periods.

* * *

Clyde was preparing for the night crowd, washing glasses and restocking the various liquor bottles, grabbing more napkins from the back room and walking around wiping down tables. He was in the middle of double checking the microphones on the stage when he heard the bell above the door ring. He looked up to see two young looking girls walk in wearing jackets and fingerless gloves. The two walked up to the bar and sat down, glancing over the counter in search of the bartender.

“I’ll be right with ya.” Clyde called as he finished the check. He walked over to the bar and slid over the counter, wiping his hand on the rag he had hanging from his belt. The girls eyes widened when they spotted his prosthetic.

“What can I get for you two?” He asked. The older looking of the two looked up and flashed him a smile.

“We’ll have a tequila shot.” She answered. Clyde pursed his lips and looked at the two again.

“I’m gonna need some ID.” He said. The girls face paled before she pulled out her wallet, handing him a license. The younger looking one, the one with the (y/h/l) (y/h/c) hair, did the same. He looked at the two ID’s, holding them away from his face slightly so he could see them better.

 _(Y/f/n) (y/l/n)_ Clyde glanced up at the girls and rolled up his sleeves, tossing the ID’s on the bar top before crossing his arms over his chest and widening his stance. (y/n) looked down at the dark wood and studying the grain under the finish.

“So, (y/n). Wanna tell me why you’re not in school?” Clyde asked. The girl’s eyes widened and she seemed to shrink within herself even further. The eldest of the two looked down at her, then back to the bartender before bolting from her stool and out the door. (y/n) made a move to do the same until Clyde reached out and caught her forearm with a vice-like grip.

“Not so fast.” He growled. (y/n) tried to pull her arm away before finally giving up and looking up at the bartender, finally getting a good look at his face. She sucked in a breath when she locked her (e/c) eyes with his whiskey brown ones. She ran her eyes over his sharp jawline covered with a black goatee, his long black hair pushed behind his ears, his large nose that made him all the more perfect.

Clyde found himself frozen as her doe-like eyes flitted across his face. He couldn’t stop his eyes from running over her perfect cheeks, her beautiful nose, the way her lips were slightly parted, she was gorgeous. He finally pulled his gaze away, clearing his throat and looking at the bar top.

“Hey Clyde, I’d hoped this wasn’t how we’d meet.” She muttered, pulling her arm away and brushing her hair out of her face. Clyde tilted his head up and looked down at her with a slightly raised eyebrow.

“You know, if you were this desperate to meet me you could'a told me.” Clyde said with a soft voice, reaching over the bar and resting his finger under her chin, tilting her head up so he could see her face. She kept her gaze averted to the glasses behind the counter.

“Well, you’ve got a delinquent as a soulmate I guess.” She said quietly. Clyde let out a quiet chuckle which caused her to look up at him.

“Well, you’ve got an ex-convict as yours, It’s only fair darlin’.” He said with a smile. The corner of her lips twitched upwards as she looked into his perfect eyes, slowly leaning towards him. He leaned forward until their lips were centimeters apart. She rested the side of her nose against his before leaning in the rest of the way, closing the gap between them, running her hand up to rest on his forearm, not even flinching at the feel of plastic under her fingertips.


	2. 2

"Daddy daddy wake up!" King cried as he launched himself onto Clyde's sleeping figure. Clyde groaned and rolled over. King crawled up and sat on his fathers chest, his tiny hands resting on Clyde's cheeks. Clyde opened his eyes and looked up to see the six year old's face inches from his own.

"daddy I'm hungry." King whisper-yelled. Clyde grinned and stretched, his shoulders popping as he did so.

"Are you? Well that's no good." Clyde said quietly so as not to wake your sleeping form next to him. King sighed dramatically and threw himself off of Clyde's chest, landing on your back as you let out a huff. King sat up, leaning against you and shaking your shoulders.

"Mommy, mom, momma, mommy, mooooom wake uuuup." King begged. You groaned and sat up, smiling down at King. His messy black hair hung in front of his face as eyes that matched your own stared up at you, gleaming with six-year-old energy. Clyde reached over with his right arm, wrapping it across King's chest and pulling his son against him.

King squealed in glee as his father stood from the bed, spinning him in a circle. You sat up out of the bed, stretching your arms above your head with a groan. You turned to see Clyde with his hand on King's stomach, fingers spread wide as he held the child above his head and blew a raspberry up at him.

"Clyde don't drop him." You said warningly. Clyde pulled pushed upwards, tossing King slightly before catching the six year old against his chest and kissing his forehead. King scrunched up his face, squirming as Clyde's goatee tickled his face. Clyde set King on his feet before turning to grab his prosthetic, sliding it over his arm and strapping it on.

You stepped closer to your husband of three years, wrapping your arms around his middle and leaning against him. Clyde rested his arms comfortable around your waist, pressing his lips to the top of your head and taking in a deep breath through his nose.

It had been seven years since you'd flashed your fake ID in front of him. Seven years since he'd met your friends and family. It had been six years since your parents kicked you out of the house because of King. Six years since you'd been living with Clyde and your son in his small trailer.

Five years ago you and Clyde had saved up enough to buy a small one-level house. King finally had his own room, you and Clyde finally had a driveway, things were getting better. Clyde had opened up to you about his past. His high school years, the heist, everything.

Clyde had taken enough money to get King through college and put it in an account little by little so as not to raise suspicion. four years after meeting the two of you decided to make it official, and got married.

"Mommy where's my backpack?" King called from the kitchen. You pulled away from Clyde, leaning in and pressing a quick kiss to his lips as you walked away from him into the kitchen. King was dressed in a pair of jeans and the shirt that Clyde had bought him. You pulled his backpack off the counter and knelt down in front of him, tugging the back of his shirt out of his jeans and smoothing the fabric.

You brushed the thick black locks out of your son's face, tucking them behind his ears. He looked so much like his father with his black hair and big ears. Clyde always felt bad that King ended up with his ears, but you loved them. You were glad he had so much of his father in him.

"Are you ready for your first day of first grade?" You asked. King nodded eagerly, flashing a gap-toothed grin. You smiled at him as you stood, walking him to the door so he could put his shoes on. King whirled around suddenly, seeing Clyde standing in the doorway. King ran to his father ask Clyde knelt down. He threw his arms around Clyde's neck, holding tight.

"Bye daddy." King said before pulling away and following you out the door.

* * *

You returned home a few minutes later, walking in to see Clyde had turned off all the lights and set candles out instead. You peered about in confusion. It wasn't your anniversary for another week, and Clyde wasn't normally romantic for no reason.

"Clyde?" You called, jumping when a pair of arms was wrapped around your waist. You rested your hand on the plastic one, resting your other hand on your chest as you breathed out a sigh.

"Clyde Logan you gave me a heart attack." You said as you turned in his arms, resting your hands against his chest. Clyde smiled down at you, the light from the candles glinting off his perfect brown eyes.

Clyde leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. You smiled, resting your head against his chest and listening to his heartbeat as Clyde started a song playing on his phone. You recognized it as the song that was playing at the restaurant when Clyde proposed to you. He started slowly swaying you back and forth, pulling away and resting his right hand on your waist. you took his prosthetic hand in your left hand, resting your right on his shoulder as the two of you danced slowly around the kitchen.

Clyde spun you slowly before pulling you closer and resting his lips against your temple before whispering the last line of the song in your ear.

_For I cant help falling in love with you_


End file.
